


Breathless

by orphan_account



Series: Fare Thee Well [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Slash, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-24
Updated: 2011-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-26 12:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the 'Fare Thee Well' series. Draco, who is growing weary with life as part of a clan, meets Gabriel for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathless

**Author's Note:**

> This will be the first of a few short stories about Draco and Gabriel. Given what happened to Gabriel at the end of 'Fare Thee Well', I thought it'd be nice to go back into the history of his relationship with Draco, considering I found it really sweet to write about.

Draco was drunk the first time he saw him.

It had all begun at one of Xavier's parties--they were legendary amongst vampires the world over, or rather  _infamous_ as Draco would soon come to learn. What vampires considered a 'party' was, by human standards, a nightmare; cruel and sinister--hundreds of warm, writhing, blood-filled bodies, there for the taking; any vice imaginable, too: drugs, drink, sex. Draco hated them; could think of nothing he cared to celebrate. He had found himself out of his element with Xavier's clan; embarrassingly so. But then he had never found joy in death. Early on he had presupposed that the same traits which had made him a lousy Death Eater would also make him a lousy vampire.

The underground cavern was thick with the smell of blood and writhing bodies. Music pounded in his ears, in disturbing rhythm with human heartbeats, and his indifference to it all was fast giving rise to anxiety. Watching a teenage girl, no older than fifteen, have her throat ripped out right there against the stone wall was the final straw. He needed to get out of here. He craved the open air, even if now he had no physical need to breathe.

It was Winter again. The air outside was crisp and smelled of life. Draco stood on the pavement outside the old theatre the vampires called home and breathed it all in, closing his eyes. After too short a moment of solitude he sensed the looming presence of another vampire close behind him; he chose to ignore it. He knew he had nothing to fear from the others. He belonged to Xavier, as clearly as if the man's name were branded on his back. None of the others would touch him. Even here, surrounded by hundreds of his own kind, he lived in a bubble of solitude. But this was his penitence, he supposed. Xavier had given him a new life when he'd needed it most. It didn't matter now that this life was almost exactly like the old one--slave to a iron-fisted leader, alone and scared and suffocating. He had made this choice for himself and would live with it.

"I can almost _hear_ you screaming."

Draco opened one eye but did not turn around. "Who are you?"

The unidentified speaker avoided this question but said, "What are you thinking about? Whatever it is, it must loud. You look fit to explode." Draco thought he detected a French accent--perhaps this was a daemon from the Paris clan; they were, reputedly, one of the most bloodthirsty clans in the world.

"Leave me alone," Draco demanded without turning around. "Whatever it is you want from me, whatever it is you're offering, I don't want it. Go away."

The stranger chuckled. "You're new, aren't you? Let me guess... A year. No--six months?"

Draco swallowed his surprise. "You know Xavier, then. He's told you about me."

"No. Just a lucky guess. I can't say I haven't noticed you, though--the beautiful vampire with the white-gold hair and lonely eyes. You are a masterpiece, I'm sure you know."

Draco turned around, very slowly. The vampire standing behind him was unfamiliar but striking: young, very young, with full dark hair and piercing blue eyes. They were bright; startling and gem-like.

They made Draco think at once of Harry Potter.

The thought inspired such a vicious spark of hatred in Draco that he was forced to quickly bury it lest he make himself sick.

"And you," Draco said, swallowing hard. "You're young, too. One year? Maybe two?"

The dark-haired vampire gifted Draco with a slow smile. "Looks can be deceiving," he said, taking one step closer to Draco. "I'm enjoying the early years of my second century."

Draco wasn't surprised. He didn't have it in him to be surprised anymore. Not after everything he'd seen.

"You're of the Paris clan," he said. It wasn't so much a question but a statement.

"I was," the stranger replied.

Draco frowned. "You've joined ours, then?"

"No. Not if my life depended on it."

Draco stared at the boy in front of him intently, confusion etched into every line of his face. He had never met a rogue vampire before; only heard of them. According to every vampire Draco had spoken to, a rogue Child of Night rarely ever survived long without a clan. Until this moment, Draco had never dared even consider the possibility he could survive on his own; hunt on his own. But was this boy here proof that one could?

"Are you...?"

The vampire smiled at him. He was beautiful. "Gabriel?" he asked. "Why yes, I am. You are...?"

Draco scowled. "Funny. I meant are you a ... a ... a _rogue_?"

"I prefer free-thinker, but ... yes. I suppose I am."

Draco was forced to work hard to conceal a smile. Gabriel saw it anyway.

"I've been meaning to talk to you for days," Gabriel offered then, leaning against the iron pole of a gas-lamp. The light of it spilled over him, illuminated him like some angel of the Lord, and Draco shivered. This vampire was different, he thought. He couldn't explain why he knew it; he just did.

"So why didn't you?" Draco felt breathless.

Gabriel let out a short laugh. Draco stared at him; his skin, his eyes, the shine of his hair, the lithe way he moved: He was something like a poem. "I was afraid of you," Gabriel admitted with a grin. "I simply couldn't work up the courage."

The awe on Draco's face gave way to a frown. "Afraid of me? Why would you be afraid of me?" And then it dawned on him. Xavier. His face fell a little. "You were afraid Xavier would punish you if you spoke to me."

Gabriel's smile didn't falter, though he looked confused. "No," he said softly, and swung around on the pole like a child, so that his coat slipped over one shoulder. Draco could see the skin of his neck now; the smooth vee of his chest. His skin was like marble. "Because I was afraid you'd want nothing to do with me, and I wish to know you." He said this so matter-of-factly that Draco had to laugh.

"You wish to know me?" Draco echoed, smiling in spite of himself.

Gabriel stood before him now, inches from him, and slowly his smile faded. "Yes," he said in a whisper. "I wish to know you."

 _~Finis~_


End file.
